mixtape (reddie)

Chapter 52

It isn't uncommon for Richie to be up late.

He's always been one with the moon, enjoying the peace of night when everyone else goes to sleep. He used to be terrified of being alone, but now he's not really alone. Not anymore. Bev used to aid that fear by inviting him out to the gas station every night, but now he's learned that there's a bit of comfort in isolation. He finds solace in the stillness. High school is demanding, especially when you're months away from graduation with no plans for your future. He appreciates the quiet moments as much as he can whenever he's lucky enough to have them. Sometimes, he avoids going to sleep just because it means that day would end and it would feel like a waste.

Richie hears a bit of groaning, so he lifts his head up and turns in his desk chair. The lamp on his desk barely illuminates the room, showing Eddie's sleeping figure shifting around so restlessly. Richie's fingers turn down the knob on his stereo, dulling out the station he's listening to.

These past few weeks, Eddie has been coming in through Bill's bedroom window once their parents are in bed. Bill's room is extended out above the roof of the garage, so it's easy for Eddie's tiny legs to scale the side of the building and slip in undetected. Usually, Bill will wave or stop Eddie to ask about a problem on the homework he's doing last minute before bed, but sometimes Eddie stumbles in to catch Beverly on top of him. They don't talk about those incidents, Eddie just covers his eyes and exits the bedroom in order to sneak into the room down the hall.

Richie is always so eager to see him, always welcomes him in with a hug and a kiss, and then they lie together and talk about their days until Eddie falls asleep.

Lately, he's been having the nightmares again.

They're different this time, Richie's noticed. Eddie is quiet, his fear is silent, as if he's spent years muffling it. He doesn't wake himself up in a fit of tears anymore. Richie can tell it's worse, somehow. Like... the fear became real, the dreams are rational, based off of something traumatic that can manifest more vividly than a giant spider.

Richie stands up from his desk chair, taking his tapedeck with him as he approaches the side of the bed. The tape is already set and ready to go, so Richie places the Walkman down on Eddie's hyperventilating chest and slips headphones over the other one's ears.

Eddie's eyes flutter open the way they always do, his chest exhaling the breath he was holding hostage. His hand finds Richie's, their fingers entwining together in the moonlight.

"Thank you," Eddie says softly once he's fully calmed down, furrowing his eyebrows again. "I'm sorry if I woke you up."

Richie shakes his head, looking down at their hands as he plays with Eddie's fingers. "No, it's fine. I was up anyways."

Eddie sighs and rolls into his side, his eyes glowing with the foggy reflection of the lamp in front of him. Richie can hear the music coming from the headphones, a Jimi Hendrix song that he knows all the words to. "They're getting bad again. I don't know why."

"What are they..." Richie's free hand traces along Eddie's leg. "What are they about?"

Eddie lifts his eyes to look at the boy sitting next to him, then he slips a side of the headphones off and explains "Patrick Hockstetter. I dream about being inside that fridge. What he did to Henry. What he would've done to others."

Richie's heart drops when he hears the truth, his hand squeezing Eddie's with all his might. It's hard to hear something so tragic come from the mouth of the one you love, but the only option Richie really has at this point is to try and help as much as he can. Eddie's been healing Richie's wounds, it's time Richie does the same.